


So Fairly To Be Seen

by ellipsometry



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Sylvain/Mercie, Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21969007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsometry/pseuds/ellipsometry
Summary: On the Wednesday before Christmas, a stranger knocks on Annette's door.Or, Felix takes the extremely normal action of asking the girl next door with the pretty voice to sing for him.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 23
Kudos: 134





	So Fairly To Be Seen

On the Wednesday before Christmas, a stranger knocks on Annette's door.

"I'm sorry... Could you repeat that?"

The guy must be around her age, though he has dark circles under his eyes like she hasn't seen on a person since finals week during college. "Sing for me," he repeats. "Uh. Please." 

_Maybe Bernie had a point about staying inside and never interacting with strangers,_ Annette thinks, chewing on her bottom lip. _Maybe it’s time to throw away this life and go live in the woods._ _No, I’d never survive out there—gah! He’s still looking at me!_

“Uh, sorry,” the man rubs at the back of his neck, looking pained and a bit red in the face. “That’s weird to ask. I mean— I just— I live next door and heard you singing the other day, and—”

“Oh my god.” The color drains from Annette’s face. “F-Forget what you heard! Never speak of this again!! I’m sorry, I don’t know you!” She goes to slam the door, but the man steps out quickly, blocking it with his foot. Annette’s never slapped someone before, but she’s starting to understand the temptation.

The man leans in just slightly, enough that Annette can see the bright amber color of his eyes, “I’m Felix. Like I said, I live next door, 3-B. Now you know me.”

Something about him seems oddly genuine. Maybe the deep wrinkle between his eyebrows, the way he looks like he can’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Annette _did_ just move in – maybe this is a weird hazing ritual in this apartment building? Maybe he’s harmless.

(Maybe. But Annette has learned better than to trust strange men.)

The man frowns deeper – _amazing that that's even possible –_ and seems to think better of whatever has come over him, stepping back a bit and dislodging his foot. "Look, I'm not trying to hit on you or anything."

The tripled internal screams of _I didn't say you were_ and _thank god you're not!_ and _what, I'm not cute enough to hit on?!_ are sending Annette's blood pressure skyrocketing. 

So, she trusts her instincts. And promptly slams the door in his face 

“Sorry!” She cups her hands around her mouth to yell through the door. And, slowly but surely, she hears the man – _Felix, he said his name was_ – shuffle away.

And that seems to settle the matter.

❅

_Hi._

_Sorry for freaking you out yesterday. ~~I had a bad day but that's no excuse anyway I don't know~~_

_Please forget anything happened. Thanks._

_Felix (from 3-B)_

❅

If her parents are to be believed – and that matter is certainly up for debate – Annette starting singing before she could even talk. Always humming, always dancing, leaving a trail of debris in her wake as she moved through life. _Lively but clumsy_ was how her parents would describe her to her teachers, perhaps as a warning.

And since there always seemed to be so many messes around her to clean up – many admittedly self-inflicted – Annette sang. About anything, everything. Made up melodies, made up words, no rules applied. As long as she was alone, any room could be transformed into a magnificent concert hall.

But singing _in front_ of someone?

“Absolutely not.”

“But Annie…” Mercedes pouts, draping herself across the back of Annette’s couch. “We’re one person short… and Dorothea says if we don’t get a replacement, we have to cancel all our Christmas performances…”

Annette’s never been good at saying no to Mercedes, particularly when she looks up at her with those expertly-executed puppy dog eyes. “Well… I do have some free time with Christmas break.”

“Yes, yes.”

“And all my lesson plans for next semester are done already…”

“Mhm, yes!”

“And… I wouldn’t be alone. You’d be there, Mercie… right?”

Mercedes is nodding so hard she looks like a bobble head. And maybe for the sake of Mercedes’ neck more than anything else, Annette agrees to serve as a Seasonal Member of the Saint Seiros Community Choir.

Their instructor, Manuela, is surprisingly strict, even if the performances are fairly low-key. A rotating cast of members attend different events around town: ribbon cuttings, holiday parties, small concerts at nursing homes. The repertoire of Christmas carols is easy enough to learn, and singing in front of other people isn’t _so_ bad, Annette decides; as long as there are other people to drown out the sound of her voice.

Their latest performance is at a hospice care center not far from Annette’s new apartment. She walks there (or runs, more like it) and makes it just in time, barreling through the entryway – and directly into a nurse, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

“I’m so, so, _so_ sorry!” Annette scrambles to her feet, brushing the dust off her skirt, reaching a hand out for the nurse – a nurse with a very familiar frown and a pair of orange eyes. “F-F-F-F—”

“Felix.” He ignores her hand, standing up and stretching the kinks out of his neck.

“I remember!” Annette frowns. “I do try to be a good neighbor. I even stopped being so loud since you said you could hear me.”

“I know,” he sounds a little sad. “What are you doing here?”

Annette hesitates. “I have a… I'm singing with the choir, for the patients." She holds her breath, waiting for him to be weird about it, or bring up the _sing for me, please_ incident, and she never actually responded to his apology note but...

Silence. Felix just nods and tilts his head, indicating she should follow him. "Yeah, that's in the activity room."

Sheepishly, Annette follows him into a large airy room filled with sunlight. There's a modest crowd – these kinds of events never get a huge draw, which is just as well, since it's just a handful of them from the choir. Mercedes and Dorothea wave Annette over.

"Thank you for— oh." But Felix is already gone, and she can't find him in the room. He was wearing bright turquoise scrubs, but all the other nurses are too, so he fades into the crowd. 

And that's a blessing as far as Annette is concerned. It's still nerve-wracking enough to sing in front of strangers without _him_ there too.

But she enjoys singing, and doing her part. Annette's always been a team player, and it's comforting to sink into the voices of the other choir members. The patients, most old, some devastatingly young, look on fondly as they start their mini-concert. They do sound beautiful – Dorothea's high, clear soprano; Mercedes' surprisingly rich alto. Annette's not sure how Mercedes convinced Linhardt to join ( _probably bribes him with weed_ , she decides), but he makes a decent tenor. And Annette—

Oh god. Felix is staring right at her.

Annette flubs the words to _Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,_ ducking her head to hide her mortified blush. Maybe if she just sings like this, he won’t notice that she’s noticed him noticing her – _nope, he is still looking._

Mercedes gives Annette a Look™ out of the corner of her eye, and Annette returns a wobbly smile around _light and life to all he brings_ , looking back out to the crowd – and meeting Felix’s eyes.

He looks… different. Or maybe he just looks normal now, and she caught him at a bad moment before. There are still small dark circles under his eyes, but he looks more put together, dark blue hair tied back, crisp scrubs falling just low enough that she can see the small slope of his collarbones, the straight line of his shoulders. Maybe he’s a bit handsome, even if Annette is reluctant to admit it.

And he’s still watching her, attentive, with a serious look on his face. _Maybe he always looks like that. Does he ever smile?_

He _had_ left that note on her door, a small apology that she tucked away, chalking the entire incident up to just a strange neighborly occurrence. But now he’s _here_ – or, rather, _she’s_ here, showing up at his place of work, another awkward confrontation just waiting to happen.

After the performance, the choir splits up to volunteer around the center, and Annette slinks off quickly, hoping to avoid Felix. She’s been assigned the dubious honor of unloading new pantry items and organizing the many shelves. She loves the work, to be honest, and everything seems to be going swimmingly – until she nearly gets herself killed.

“Are you _trying_ to injure yourself or something?!”

“Not…” Annette frowns. “Not particularly?”

It’s Felix, of all people, to come to her rescue. A massive canister of coffee slips off one of the shelves, nearly clocking her in the head; he darts in to snatch it out of the air with a kind of practiced nonchalance.

“So, accidentally then,” Felix huffs, placing the canister gingerly back on the shelf. “You could have been seriously hurt if that hit your head, which it was about to. You should really take better care of yourself.”

It might be insulting to hear those words from a near-perfect stranger, if only Felix didn’t look so concerned. He’s not scolding her, he’s actually _worried_. “Okay. I promise I will.”

Silence. And Annette’s not really used to silence, too used to filling up quiet spaces with nervous chatter. “So, anyway, they put me in charge of organizing the pantry. Kind of a bad choice, now that I think about it,” Annette chews at her thumbnail. “Considering I’m so clumsy. I mean, you know, you were the one who saved me from nearly killing myself. Actually—”

“Okay,” Felix waves his head in front of his face, cutting her off. “Just… sit there. I’ll organize.”

“Really?” Annette pouts. “I don’t want to make you do my work though…” One more thing she’s always had a problem with. Sitting still is not her strong suit.

Felix pauses for at least a minute (or at least long enough that Annette starts to get itchy, searching for words to fill the silence.) “Fine, you can hand me things, but I’ll put them away.”

“Okay!” Annette perks up, dutifully handing the items to Felix one-by-one. This time, the silence they fall into is comfortable, the repetitive motion therapeutic, somehow. Annette’s always liked cleaning, the opportunity to turn her overactive brain off for a second, to focus so wholly on one thing, spend some time alone. But… having some company isn’t bad.

Actually, she kind of feels like singing.

“You know, I was going to say earlier,” Annette hands off a package of pancake mix, fingers brushing Felix’s. “I never actually introduced myself. I’m Annette!”

“Oh,” Felix freezes for a split second. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yep,” Annette pops the ‘p.’ “Let’s see… well, I live in 3-A, which you know. Um, and I’m a middle school teacher. I teach math, if you can believe it! And my best friend is named—”

“W-Why are you—” Felix splutters, shooting her a bewildered look. “I don’t need your whole life story!”

“Well, I thought, since I know where you work… I guess it seemed fair?” Annette grins sheepishly. “And then I just kept going.”

“Hn,” Felix hums, turning back to his work. But just a second later he’s freezing again, and Annette can see the tips of his ears going red as he says, “You can… keep talking if you want.”

She bites back a giggle, “Yeah? I’ll feel weird if it’s just me talking though…”

“I don’t mind.”

“Oookay… well, where was I? My best friend, her name is Mercedes, she’s really great, I call her Mercie though. We met in boarding school actually, I went to this _super_ weird school out in Maine. Soooo cold!” 

Annette rambles on happily, handing off the pantry items to Felix, almost watching the tension seep out of his shoulders as the seconds pass. He had seemed so, well, stiff before – like he had been poured into those overly-starched scrubs, constantly upright and eagle-eyed. He was much more charming like this, bobbing his head at the appropriate times during her stories, and she can tell he’s really _listening._ How strange.

Maybe listening _too_ much. Annette finished unloading the pantry boxes, and looks up to see Felix’s progress when—

“Watch out, watch out!”

A box is tipping precariously off the top shelf, and Felix reacts just a second too late, hand moving up to catch one side. Annette’s hand grabs the other, instinct carrying her across the small gap between them.

“You’re… kind of strong,” Felix grits out. The box is heavy, to put it lightly. _What the hell are they keeping in here?_

“Yeah, well,” Annette moves another hand to prop the box up, just an inch from Felix’s face. “My dad actually taught me to use an axe when I was a kid, so I’m a little strong. What a weird thing to teach a kid, right? Although, he was never—”

“Annette,” Felix interrupts. “Believe me when I say, I would love to hear the rest of that story. But for now, can we just move this thing?”

They rescue Felix from danger, and finish organizing the shelves in short order. Annette considers recommending they install less precarious shelves, but decides to leave that for now.

Only when they sit down on one of the benches in the hallway between the pantry and the kitchen, does Annette ask the question that’s actually been nagging at her.

“So, why did you come in here in the first place? Or could you just sense that I was in mortal danger?”

Felix’s face goes pink in record time. “I… wanted to apologize. In person, for the other day,” each word sounds painful to get out, and he winces. “It _really_ wasn’t like me, ask anyone.”

“Ah…” Annette swings her feet, folding her hands in her lap. “It _was_ weird, but it’s okay. Honestly, I used to get really freaked out when people heard me sing. I guess I still do.”

“So, naturally you joined a choir.”

“Shut up,” Annette nudges his shoulder with her own. “It was a favor to Mercie. Plus, I don’t actually hate it. Singing to a bunch of people feels less weird than singing to one person… that feels more,” she steals a look to Felix, and look away just as quickly. “Intimate, I guess.”

“You have a good voice,” Felix says it so matter-of-factly, it’s almost more embarrassing than if he were poetic or effusive about it. “I don’t know. I came home one day and heard you singing about crumbs and yums or something—”

“Oh no…”

“It kind of put me at ease. And it’s fucking catchy,” the corner of his lip quirks up. “I was humming it at work, and a patient I really liked caught me. She liked it too, so when she…” Felix trails off, wiping a hand down his face, “I’m sorry, it’s no excuse for barging in on you. But I just needed something to cheer me up, I guess. It was a rough day.”

Annette sniffs, blinking back one small tear at the corner of her eye, and waving away the concerned look when Felix looks up to see her so upset, “I’m sorry, I’m okay! It’s just, you’re a pretty sensitive guy, aren’t you?”

“Don’t go spreading that around,” Felix deadpans, but he looks pleased. “I should… probably get back to work.

“Oh. Yeah, of course!” Annette pops up so fast she nearly hits Felix on her way up, and he has to steady himself on the bench as he stands, laughing. _So, he can smile!_

“Try not to get yourself killed, okay?” He reaches out to pat her shoulder, but apparently thinks better of it, hand hesitating in the air before falling to his side. Annette doesn’t even notice, eyes still fixed on that rare smile.

“Okay,” she grins, so wide her face is starting to hurt. “I guess you’d be the first to know.”

He nods, faux-serious, “As soon as I stop hearing your rendition of _crumbs and yums_ , I’ll know something’s gone horribly wrong.”

“You’re horrible!” Annette covers her face – but peeks out just enough to keep an eye on Felix as he laughs, eyes crinkling shut. (He _is_ handsome, after all, she finally admits. And it’s not great for her health.)

Felix begrudgingly waves goodbye, heading out of the kitchen, dodging a hanging mistletoe that one of the other volunteers is putting up. Annette watches him go and pretends not to imagine catching him under that mistletoe.

❅

_Hi!!_

_Sorry for never actually responding to your first note. But it was really nice to meet you actually officially. Thank you for helping me organize too (and saving me from instant death via coffee canister!)_

_Maybe see you around?_

_Annette (from 3-A)_

❅

  
  


What Sylvain says is _so, I’m seeing someone right now._ What Felix says is, _bull fucking shit you are._

“No, but. Actually, I am.” Sylvain frowns, and it might make more of an impression it he didn’t have a streak of flour across his cheek. “We’ve gone on a few dates, so nothing super serious yet. But… she’s really special.”

_That’s actually sweet_ , Felix thinks, in spite of everything he knows about his best friend.

And, true to form, Sylvain manages to ruin it by following that up with, “And we haven’t even slept together - what!”

He dodges a cookie cutter Felix launches across the kitchen like a ninja star, “That’s a low fucking bar, man.”

“I dunno. I mean I’d _love_ to sleep with her, don’t get me wrong,” Sylvain grins, dodging another cookie-cutter-cum-shuriken. “But I mean it, she’s different. She’s kind and thoughtful, and I feel really comfortable around her. Almost as comfortable as around my best buddy ol’ pal Felix.”

“Shut up,” Felix throws a third cookie cutter, but there’s no killing intent behind it, and Sylvain snatches it easily out of the air. “If that’s really the case… then I’m happy for you.”

Felix wasn’t sure what to expect when Sylvain invited him over to bake Christmas cookies, of all things. Sylvain is a shockingly adept baker, while Felix wouldn’t know baking powder from baking soda – “They look the exact fucking same, what’s the difference?” – so maybe he _should_ have expected a heart-to-heart.

Or, perhaps, a favor. “She’s meeting me for the Christmas Eve festival thing. You wanna come?”

“Not really.”

“Felix…”

“I’m not playing third wheel with you and your new girlfriend.”

“Actually, I mean… we haven’t made it, like, official—” Sylvain shakes his head. “Never mind, that’s the beauty of it, you’re not the third wheel, her friend is coming too.”

So, this was all an elaborate plan to set Felix up with someone. And Felix is about to reach into his repository of _Ways to Tell Sylvain to Fuck Himself,_ except—

“Yeah, she’s in a choir, so they’re performing, her and her friend.”

Felix’s hand stills, hovering above the last un-thrown cookie cutter, the shape of an angel. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come”

“Seriously?!”

“Yes.” Felix makes himself busy rolling out the dough, head ducked down to hide the pink dusting his cheeks. “Shut up before I change my mind.”

Sylvain makes a movement like he’s locking his lips and throwing away the key – but Felix doesn’t miss him less-than-surreptitiously sending a text message to his new girlfriend.

❅

_Annette,_

_~~I had extra cookies. Don’t ask why. You weren’t home so I just left them here. Sorry if you’re allergic to sugar cookies. Not sure if that’s an allergy anyone actually has. This is stupid~~ _

_Thank you for the other day._

_Felix (from 3-B)_

❅

Felix should have known better than to let Sylvain dress him.

The outfit itself is nice, honestly, but the whole ordeal has him feeling like a child dressed up by his parents in his Christmas Best. Sylvain looks awfully pleased with himself, even attempting to get Felix to plait his hair into a low braid, before being aggressively waved off with a threat of violence. (Felix _does_ at least tie his hair back in a neat ponytail.)

They meet the girls promptly at eight. _He must really be serious about this girl if he’s willing to show up on time_ , Felix thinks. And, sure enough, standing next to a pretty, vaguely-familiar girl that must be Sylvain’s girlfriend – is Annette. She’s clutching a hot chocolate with ungloved hands like her life depends on it, nose and cheeks bitten red from the cold. She looks cute – better than cute, she looks beautiful. Felix should say something, should compliment her hair, which is fluffed up from the massive scarf around her neck; or maybe her coat, a light blue that complements her complexion.

What he says is, “You really came out here without gloves? Do you have a death wish?”

Annette splutters out a laugh, but Felix is already rummaging through his pockets for an extra pair of gloves. Once located, he hands them to her gingerly, holding her hot chocolate wordlessly while she puts them on.

“Good to see you again! Felix, right? I’m Mercedes!” Mercedes smiles knowingly, and Felix suddenly remembers where he knows her from – one of the choir girls, and Annette’s best friend, if he’s remembering correctly. (Of course he is.)

“Wow, you guys all already met?” Sylvain is a horrible actor, feigning ignorance even when Felix shoots him a venomous look, one that melts instantly the second Annette says _thanks for the gloves_ and reaches for her hot cocoa.

“No problem,” he mumbles.

Pretense dropped, Mercedes and Sylvain give a flimsy reason to excuse themselves, darting off with held hands swinging between them. They’re a little cute. Felix wants to kill them.

“Sorry,” Annette grins guiltily. “I figured out from Mercedes talking about her boyfriend so much that you knew him. And she’s… kind of, like, an overbearing big sister sometimes.”

The idea that Annette talked about Felix to another person, and talked fondly enough about him that her friend would insist on inviting him so they could spend time together – it’s kind of frying his brain. Felix doesn’t _date_ , people don’t _like_ him like that. He’s tolerated at best – too standoffish, too abrupt, too wrapped up in his own brain.

Something about Annette calms him down.

“Did you,” he offers his elbow to her, ignoring the heat of his own face, which is probably just as red as her hair, “want to walk around?”

Annette smiles softly, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow, “Are you trying to hit on me or something?”

Felix flushes at that, her echoing his own words back at him. “Might be.”

“I’d like that.”

The festival is packed, so they take the long way around the crowd, visiting crafts vendors and sampling the food truck fare. Annette successfully sneaks a light-up Santa hat on Felix’s head, snapping a picture that sends her into a fit of giggles. (And so, the hat stays on.)

Maybe they even sneak in a kiss under the mistletoe, something short and chaste but ripe with promise – not that Felix will admit anything when Sylvain grills him about it later.

And when Annette and the rest of the choir take the small stage at the center of the festival, leading sing-a-longs and renditions of Christmas classics, Felix stands unabashedly in the front row, arms folded across his chest, eyes fixed squarely on a redhead with, as far as he’s concerned, the voice of an angel.

Annette catches his eye and smiles. And Felix can swear he hears her sing just a little bit louder.

  
  


❅

_Hi Felix!_

_I never said thank you for the cookies, so... Thank You very much! They were delicious, I didn’t know you had a talent for baking! (I can’t cook anything without setting the kitchen on fire. Maybe you could teach me?)_

_I had a really nice time at the Xmas Even Festival :) You’re good company._

_Btw, I’m practicing a new choir piece, so sorry if my singing is louder than usual. Let me know if it bothers you. You know where to find me :)_

_~~Love~~ _ _Sincerely,_

_Annette (from 3-A)_

**Author's Note:**

> come yell w/ me on twit [@ellipsometry_](http://twitter.com/ellipsometry_)


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